Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As the dinner rush began to come to a close, the prosperous chef returned to his office to continue working on his ever-growing paperwork. He would have preferred to continue scouring at the chefs, assuring no mistakes would be made. However, he would prefer not to fall behind on other business. Especially regarding his current understaffed dilemma. The further he pushed back meeting fresh new faces, the worse it would become. He internally groaned at the thought of interviewing foolish waiters that cared nothing about his craft as they only sought his wallet. He supposed there was some enjoyment in establishing fear in new employees. It was always a delight to watch their brightness slowly begin to dwindle as they became engulfed in his constant stress.

With newfound motivation, the chef carefully scanned each and every resume. Most would merely quickly scan them; however, he would look at every fine detail. Look for the slightest of mistakes. The moment he noticed one, it would be instantly stashed into the bin. If they were going to mess up prior to working, there was no point in even meeting them. However, one resume stuck out to him. One littered with red flags on reasons not to go through with an interview. Twenty-eight service jobs. Only within the past few years. It truly was an astonishment. Especially to boldly flaunt about it as if it were an accomplishment. However, that wasn't what fully piqued his interest, but rather the name printed along the top.

Rody Lamoree....

He knew that name somewhere...

Ah. That one broad that had been constantly pestering him mentioned that name once or twice. From what she described, he was the incarnation of a complete disaster. Failing at the simplest of tasks of adulthood.

He should have thrown that resume away the moment he read the name. However, he was enticed as he picked up his phone and began to dial the number printed upon it.

Rody had only just returned home from another unsuccessful day of job hunting. Currently, the sweaty man was wrestling to get his bike inside, only pausing as a shrill trilling started to sound from the main room, indicating his old phone was receiving a call.

“Fuck- That’s probably her…”

He muttered quickly to himself, finally shoving the bike in through the open door and scrambling to reach the phone on his messy table, making a mental note to clean said table at some point.

“Ah, hello??” His voice sounded a lot more rushed and hopeful than he had intended it to.

Vincent trailed his finger along his desk as an amused smirk grew along his face. His voice was almost exactly as he imagined it would be.

Desperate.

"Good evening, am I speaking to Rody Lamoree?"

Rodys expression fell, a decidedly not Manon voice speaking on the other end. A decidedly not female at all voice for that matter?

“Oh… Y-Yes that’s me, uh who is this?”

He tried to hide the disappointed tone as he collapsed onto his decrepit couch.

Vincent decided to ignore the clear disappointment coming from the other man as he got straight to business.

"This is Vincent Charboneau, I'm calling you in regards to your application as a waiter at La Gueule de Saturne. I just have a few quick questions if you're available."

Rodys eyes shot open, a ray of sunshine finally shining on the shit show that was his life right now.

“Holy- Yes of course I’m available, what would you like to know Vin- uh, Mister Charboneau!”

He stumbled clumsily through his words, sitting upright now as he attempted to seem more professional.

Vincent had to pause for a moment at the other's pure excitement. He wasn't expecting the sudden switch. It almost made him feel uncomfortable, as if he would have a sliver of guilt for desiring to slowly chip away at this pure joy. However, it was a mere fleeting emotion as his curiosity took the better of him.

"Thank you, Monsieur Lamoree. According to your resume, you've held twenty-eight different positions? I would like a confirmation on this if you don't mind."
Despite his amusement over the information, none of it seeped into his voice as it maintained a completely monotone and professional tone.

Rody smiled to himself, proud of the achievement and clearly not grasping the other was not as impressed with such experience.

“That’s right! I’ve been employed by various different restaurants over a short period of time. I’m pretty experienced!”

He had never actually met this guy in person, but he hadn’t expected him to be the type to call applicants personally about job positions. He seemed nice enough however.

Vincent's smirk only continued to grow as the conversation grew. He was almost tempted to allow himself to laugh just to see how the other would react. However, he would much rather see the facial expressions in person than to simply imagine them.

"Thank you for the confirmation. I'm assuming some of the establishments were similar to my own. Would you be available tomorrow for an official interview? I'm available anytime between 10:00 to 2:00."

Rody could almost cry as he finally saw his own unemployment slowly being trampled by the one and only Vincent Charboneau.

“Oh my god yes of course, thank you so much for this opportunity I’m free anytime you would like.”

He pumped his fist excitedly in the air, ready to get off the phone and prepare for the interview as quick as possible.

Vincent leaned forward in his chair as he grabbed his personal planner to leave a reminder; despite his desire for perfection, his handwriting was anything but that.

"My pleasure, I'll see you at 10:30, Monsieur Lamoree. Have a good rest of your evening."

Rody nodded, before remembering the other couldn’t see him.

“Yes, you too Vinc- I-I mean Mister Charboneau!”

He listened intently as the line went dead, indicating the other had hung up.
“Holy fuck that was stressful, I need to go find a clean shirt…”

He started mumbling to himself as he rushed to prepare visually for the interview, rather than verbally…

Vincent carefully sets his phone down, finally allowing himself to laugh at the other man. He truly couldn't believe such a person existed. He would proceed with the interview, enjoying fear consuming the other during the process before ultimately rejecting his application. It was purely for his personal enjoyment, one of which he wouldn't allow to interfere with his work.

With a slight sense of excitement, he set the other resumes to the side to deal with later to begin working on his other paperwork. Time quickly passed by as he finished up the remains of his work, returning back to the kitchen to begin closing up the restaurant.

At exactly 9:50 am, Vincent scales down his apartment stairs to unlock the back entrance for the chefs to enter ten minutes later to prepare the ingredients and dishes prior to opening. Making his way towards the dining room, he begins the process of unstacking all of the chairs and replacing the now clean dining cloths. Normally this would be the waiter's responsibility, but his last one quit due to a "hostile work environment." He clicked his teeth in annoyance at the mere reminder of his ex-employee. He was never fit for that position to begin with; he just wished he was given the satisfaction of firing him.

Once all of the tables were properly set up, he collected Rody's resume for the interview as well as a sheet of paper to take notes during it. He already knew what the end result would be, but that was no excuse for conducting an inadequate interview. With everything properly prepared, he patiently waited for the other to arrive.

The next morning Rody woke up predictably late, rushing to his apartment's shower room and very quickly washing his body. When he darted back to his room he swiftly dressed, forced to leave his hair mostly wet as he grabbed the bike and pulled it roughly back out through the door, the same way he had pushed it in yesterday.

“Of all damn days to be late.”

He muttered, mounting the bike and quickly rushing to get to La Gueule. He only had around 15 minutes…

Rody finally arrived around 20 minutes later, panting and heaving as he rushed to get off his bike. He was only ten minutes late, but that was not a good look for a first time interview.

“Dammit, he’s going to think I’m so unprofessional…”

He fixed his haphazard clothing and tried to shake his hair free of water, glancing up at the clearly not open building. After a moment of nervous hesitating, he finally knocked on the door, hoping someone would hear it.

As each minute passed, boy, Vincent's excitement slowly shifted into annoyance before twisting into pure aggravation. He aggressively places his papers on the table as he sits up to unlock the door. He didn't even bother to hide his emotions as the door opened. Without even letting the other sputter out excuses, he coldly snaps at the other,

"You're late."

It was short yet cold. He moved out of the way to allow the other to enter the restaurant. His eyes tracked the other man's body, his displeasure growing upon seeing wet hair.

Rody had of course attempted to excuse himself, but was perturbed by the greeting of the other. Vincent had always seemed daunting and almost eery on any newspaper articles Rody had seen, but the real thing was positively terrifying.

He was tall, yet lanky, lacking and real muscle that would make someone appear threatening. There was no reason Rody should feel afraid, yet for some reason he did.

“R-Right I’m so sorry Mister Charboneau, I ran into some problems this morning…”

He mumbled out the piss poor excuse and ducked into the restaurant, lying about the fact that he had simply woke up late. Vincent was giving him a complete death glare, and he did not want to test that right now.

Vincent remained silent as he made his way back to the table, silently signaling Rody to follow suit behind him. As the two of them sat down, he recollected his papers in an attempt to calm himself. He was merely doing this interview for amusement; there was no real reason to get frustrated. This wasn't his employer; he had no authority to yell at him. He must remain professional.

Almost instantly, his face shifted back into its usual flat expression as he cleared his throat, his voice returning to its usual monotone.
"Let's just begin with the interview. Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself? Besides your inability to arrive on time, preferably."

Rody nervously shifted in his seat, not expecting the other to just let the grievance go.
But if that’s what he wanted…

Being well versed in interviews he knew vaguely what sort of things he should talk about with that question. That doesn’t mean he always did.

“O-Okay, well you know my personal details already… I’m a big fan of the culinary world and have always been pretty involved in it. Though I attended college for hospitality, my girlfriend was working to become a food critic and I guess I got into the food world that way.”

He left out the part where said girlfriend broke up with him, going off on a tangent about his work in the culinary world.

Vincent's face remained neutral as the other spoke; however, internally, it was a completely different story. He was completely captivated by each word, each expression, the small shifts he did, and every simple little movement. His eyes completely tracked all of them. It was almost as if a trance was cast upon him.

Everything about Rody entranced him. It was an addicting sensation. One he wanted to string along for as long as he could.

Yet his face remained completely null; the only expression change was him slightly pressing his lips together as he scribbled some notes as the other spoke. Nothing would escape the professional chef persona he carefully crafted.

"I see. I'm glad to hear how enthusiastic you are in regards to the field. What would you say is your greatest strength and weakness?"

His words were hollow voids of mere empty nothings. After all, nothing the other man said would truly matter in the end. He would never fit into his tightly sewn work.

Rody smiled as he thought over both questions, various things coming to mind as a potential response.

“Well it’s safe to say being on time is a weakness, I’m not exactly a morning person… My biggest weakness though is probably just how unaware I am? I guess…”

He was referring to his constant talking and complete lack of social awareness. Both were things that had cost him many of the 28 previous positions he had held.

“My strengths are probably just that I’m super friendly, I can talk to just about anyone!”

He finished his answers with a signature big smile, hoping everything was going okay. His hand moved subconsciously upward to pat gently at the still half wet hair as he watched the others reaction.

Vincent's reaction remained the same as he looked at Rody before writing something down. However, he decided to allow himself to speak a little bit more freely with the other. After all, none of this truly mattered. He just needed to keep reminding himself that this was for enjoyment.

"That much is clear. I've been told I'm quite hard to talk to, yet you seem to be faring quite well for yourself. I would be slightly impressed if I didn't see how nervous you were a minute ago."

His face finally shifted into a small smirk as he chuckled slightly at thinking back to how terrified the other had looked. He wished he could replay that expression over and over in his head.

Rody pursed his lips slightly as his hand carded down through the mid length hair, curling a strand on his finger repeatedly to calm himself.

“Sorry I do get nervous easily, but it doesn’t last long… I typically can’t keep my mouth shut-“

He squirmed in the chair whilst laughing, feeling slightly surprised that Vincent was smiling. He didn’t seem like a smiler-

Vincent couldn't contain his enjoyment as much. Not when the other was looking at him like that. He wrote something down, purely in hopes of making the other even more nervous.

"I'm assuming that's the reason you've been fired so many times. Just know I probably tolerate back talk even less than your last boss. So it's best to watch your mouth around me, hm?"

Rody nodded vigorously, laughing in an anxious manner as he tugged at the strand of hair and finally let it go, curling back up to his head.

“Yes of course, I swear I do listen quite well! Not as stupid as I look anyway-“

His eyes darted over to the notepad, both wanting and not wanting to read what Vincent was writing about him. He couldn’t tell if this interview thing was going well from the small jabs.

Vincent offered a fake customer service smile just to put the other even more on edge as he wrote something down.

"Why don't we move onto the next question. Why do you think I should hire you? What can you bring to my business that no one else can?"

Rody paused, the first thing to genuinely stump him. It was a typical question, and one he usually managed to answer decently. But he wasn’t quite sure what to say when sitting in-front of a nationally renowned chef like Vincent.

“I uh… Well I mean, what do you offer the guy who already has access to some of the widest labour pools in France?”

It was true that Vincent did have access to most high end wait staff, but it was also true that people like that tended to be snobby and not very polite. They argued with him, and that was the only upside Rody had.

“I guess I’m the most down to earth person you’ll ever have applying for this position. I know a few of your past staff members have been kinda argumentative, so in that sense I’m much more flexible with working hours and other things.”

It was a long shot, but he hoped it would appease Vincent.

Vincent couldn't help but smirk again as he set down the paper to fully give Rody his attention. If Rody wanted to try to read what he had been writing down, he could try, but the chances of him actually being able to read his handwriting were low. Especially when it's upside down.

"I've heard around the same statement from at least twenty different applicants before you. You definitely have a different background than all of them. Hell, I don't think I'm ever going to see another application like yours ever again. But I already have people who want to bend over backward to do my bidding. People I know who won't show up late. So try again, Monsieur Lamoree."

Rodys face contorted into an exasperated look, Vincent still grinning away almost taunting him with a smile. There was nothing innocent about a smile like that however.

“Well, it would seem that no matter what jargon I give you won’t like it then.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Though he immediately regretted saying such a thing, he panicked and dug the hole deeper.

“Y-Yknow you seem to have already written me off… Maybe there’s another reason you brought me here.”

Rody paused, head swimming with the absurdity of his next statement.

“I-I’ve been told I’m pretty cute.”

After that he fell utterly silent, shocked by his own audacity.

Vincent's smirk instantly falls as he stares at the other in a mixture of pure shock and disbelief. He had certainly... Never heard that answer before. Never. Not once. Never thought he would. Never thought he would have to react to that answer. How does one even react to that answer? He was at a complete loss of what to do.

A small laugh slips out as he picks the paper back up. He opens his mouth to say something but it's interrupted by another small.

After a moment he's able to slightly recompose himself, but he's still mostly in a state of disbelief. He might as well try to redirect it back into a more professional interview, but even he has his doubts.

"Well… That is a first… I'll give you that much. I guess we can move on to the next question..."

He takes a moment to try to think of what to ask next but his mind is completely blank, so he says the only thing he can think of.

"Do you have any questions for me?"

Rody leant back into his chair, trying to shrink away from the others clear discomfort. He really was doing himself no favours.

“Er, not really… The only thing I’m really curious about is why you even decided to interview me?”

He knew this wasn’t the best question to ask as they say not to bite the hand that feeds you, but god would he be a fool to not question this sheer luck?

“I mean you said it yourself. You have a multitude of better qualified applicants, why even bother with me?”

He raised a brow, hoping to actually get a response to the burning curiosity.

For the second time in this interview, Rody completely shocked Vincent. No one is ever fully direct with him unless they're upset. Others normally are too afraid to ask him anything. It's a relationship he established and desired. Yet someone completely ignoring it was a nice change of pace. However, he doubted he would enjoy it if anyone else dared to do so.

"I was curious. I get the same type of resume every single time. It gets boring to go through. Yours stuck out."

Since the conversation was much more casual, he decided to grab his box of cigars and light one. Taking a quick drag of it before continuing his thought.

"Before you get excited, you didn't stick out for a good reason. You're probably not going to be getting a call back anywhere else."

Rody watched him inhale the smoke, letting it out in a slow and steady puff. He was completely captivated by the show, but honestly was not sure why.

Just as Rody was about to argue for himself he caught onto the last sentence and suddenly smiled, watching the oh so confident idiot completely ignore his presence.

“Anywhere else huh… But you’re saying you are going to call me back then.”

His eyes narrowed as he continued grinning, hoping he had called the others bluff.

Vincent coughed as he inhaled once more, not even aware of his own slip. He waves the smoke away as he clears his throat as he tries to recompose himself once more.

"Pardon? Let's not get ahead of ourselves here."

He covered his mouth with his fist as another cough slips out. This entire interview was a mess that he didn't know how to control anymore.

Rody grinned further, excitement winning him over as Vincent failed to actually deny that he was getting the job.

“Oh come on you already said, ‘anywhere else’ implying you were giving it to me!”

He personally thought Vincent was crazy to do so, but who was he to complain about the extra cash…

“Guess you do think I’m cute after all.”

He joked, still nervously trying to play off the nonsense from earlier.

Vincent is completely lost in his coughing fit at the other's words. He wasn't even allowing him to recover! He was completely out of his element. The pure definition of a fish out of water. He was only able to slip out a few short sentences in between his coughs.

"Okay… okay... You got the job. Just give me a moment..."

He sat up from the table to get himself a glass of water to help with how much his throat was aching between the coughs. He chugged it down before setting it next to one of the sinks for one of the chefs to clean before returning. His entire body language practically screamed embarrassment as he attempted to fix his composure.

"Tomorrow. 10:30. Be on time this time!"

Rody practically glowed with pride as he stood up and quickly shook Vincent’s hand, in his excitement forgetting all formality.

“Thank you so much Vincent, I swear I won’t let you down! I’ll be here on time tomorrow, thank you again this is a big help to me.”

He grinned wide, rushing out the door and not even giving the other a chance to scold him for the lack of manners.

He needed to get home. He needed to tell her. Maybe now, he might be enough?

Vincent was left in complete disbelief for a moment as he watches Rody run off, not even bothering to say anything back. How did he manage this? The entire interview he knew he was never going to hire Rody. So how in the fuck did it end with him practically skipping out of his restaurant!? He was supposed to be completely crushed! Defeated! As he dragged his feet out the door, without any more hope of finding another place.

Not only did he have to deal with Manon now. But her ex as well!?

He could practically feel the future headache brewing as he took another drag of his cigarette.

With his newfound annoyance, he returned to the kitchen to scan for any mistakes. Perhaps yelling at one of the chefs for their mistake would ease him with his own.

Rody actually managed to sleep early that night, feeling pretty put out after Manon continued to evade his calls.

Unfortunately, that did little to help him actually arrive early to work.

Chapter Text

Rody woke up predictably late and repeated his usual chaos of getting ready in a frenzy. This time he was earlier than his usual lateness, however, and managed to actually dry his hair before he was stumbling out the door.

With little time to waste he quickly headed for the restaurant, determined to not be late this time.

Just as the day before, at exactly 9:50 am, Vincent walked down from his apartment into the restaurant to prepare for opening before any of his employees arrived. However, unlike the day prior, he didn't set up the tables this time, deciding to leave it for Rody to do. It would be his responsibility after all; he just needed a confirmation that he could even manage to do that correctly.

He couldn't help but massage his temple, already reaching for a cigarette.

Today was truly going to be a disaster.

Hopefully when he inevitably fires Rody, it'll be worth it.

Rody moved as fast as he could, arriving at the restaurant and practically throwing his bike into the back alley of La Gueule.

A quick glance at his shattered watch and he was relieved to see, it was thankfully 10:27. A whole three minutes early.

“Yes! And he said I couldn’t do it.”

Rody quickly darted to the door, simply pushing it open and stepping inside this time.

Vincent was honestly expecting him to arrive late once more. He couldn't believe that was something he would ever expect from one of his employees. However, the moment he laid eyes on the other man, his relief was instantly whisked away.

"...Are you wearing the same shirt you did yesterday…?"

He didn't even bother to hide the disgust in his voice.

Rody glanced down, almost like he himself had forgotten such a thing wasn’t socially acceptable.

Because he had. And it wasn’t.

“N-No… I just have many copies of the same shirt… It was on a sale!”

His wobbly voice and nervous demeanor did nothing to convince the aggravated man that was now his boss.

Vincent's eyes continued to glare at the offensive shirt as he nodded in response, clearly not believing the other.

"Whatever… Give me a moment; I'll grab your uniform. While I'm looking, I want you to set up the tables just as they were yesterday. The dining clothes are in the bag next to the kitchen door."

He didn't even bother to hear what the other had to say as he went into his office. Logically, he should have asked for his size, but he didn't want to stare at the shirt any longer. It only made him regret his choices even further.

After all, who in their right mind would show up to their first shift in an outfit they wore the day prior, especially knowing that their new boss had seen them in it?

His newest employee, apparently.
Rody stood in confused silence for a moment, feeling awfully discomforted by the eery, empty, restaurant.

“Well… Guess it’s just me then-“

He mumbled to himself with a sigh, slowly getting accustomed to the building as he began arranging and setting up everything to the best of his ability. It was going quite well in his opinion.

“And if that went there, this probably goes there…”

It would appear talking to himself had become a habit as of recent days…

Still, he managed to get the dining area decently set up in a short amount of time.

Vincent returned once he found at least three pairs, handing them to Rody. He looked around the dining room area and nodded in approval.

"Better than I expected. The tablecloth is a little wrinkled, but the customers are most likely going to do that anyway. Go change so we can start your actual training. You can put your clothes in my office and pick them up after your shift. Please make sure to actually wash these regularly. I shouldn't have to say that."

Rody nodded with a sheepish look, taking the outfits and looking them over before he left. They looked much too fancy for someone like him. Pristine white shirt, flawlessly ironed black pants and waistcoat, and a little bow tie and apron to go with that.

“Thank you, I’ll be as quick as possible!”

He enthusiastically responded, already knowing that there was no way he was properly wearing that bow tie-

Rody quickly entered the bathrooms and changed as fast as possible, fixing the whole outfit before returning to the main area, his clothes clutched in his hands.

Vincent didn’t bother to contain his scoff at the other’s excuse of a bow tie. Without any warning, he harshly grabbed the horrid knot, yanking Rody slightly along with it. Silently, his fingers untangle the ribbon before perfectly tying it. He gives it a firm tug before nodding in approval and taking a step back.

“There. Now you look acceptable.”

Rody stared at him wide eyed for a moment, completely surprised by the action.

“I could’ve done that myself…”

He mumbled softly, tugging uncomfortably at the garment, but deciding to leave it upon catching Vincent’s gaze.

He felt weird and slightly odd from the action…

Vincent merely rolled his eyes as he took Rody’s clothes. Handing him the menu in exchange.

“I’m sure. Anyway, we open at noon. Here’s the menu for today. If you have any questions about it, I’ll be in the kitchen making sure the chefs are properly preparing for opening. I’ll explain further once we open.”

Just like before, he didn’t wait for the others' response as he left to put the clothes away and return to the kitchen.

Rody nodded to himself, looking down and studying the menu in silence as the other left.

“This all looks…. Way too Pitt of my price range.”

He muttered softly, eyes trailing over every ingredient. It would seem he’d need to sell an arm and a leg for one of these many dishes.

“Well it is Vincent Charboneau… I guess I could try to get more acquainted with all the facilities.”

Rody began wandering around, nosing at all the various items as he did so.

At exactly 11:50, Vincent walked out of the kitchen, looking around for Rody.

“I’m assuming you have the menu memorized by now; it really shouldn’t be that difficult. Each day we’ll have a different menu that you need to learn. The only time we’ll make accommodations is in relation to allergies. Once you get their orders, place them next to the window. Any questions?”

Rody nodded along with the explanation, mind wandering to different things throughout. He was so curious about the building, and it’s honestly suspicious owner.

He was pulled back into conversation as Vincent questioned him.

“Uh, nope nothing from me- All good to go I would say.”

He attempted to smile, the nerves settling in now that there would be fancy rich people arriving into the restaurant any minute.

Vincent nodded as he took his place next to the kitchen doors. It allowed him to listen to the kitchen to ensure none of the chefs were slacking off while he was away. No matter how long they've worked for him, they've never seemed to earn his trust. The moment it seemed like they did, a single mistake would wash it all away.

Mistakes weren't allowed at La Gueule de Saturne.

Yet here he was. Shadowing someone who made the easiest mistake to avoid during an interview. He wished he could smoke away the headache that slowly began to form.

Rody quickly began doing his best when the guests arrived, skating through the first round of customers with decent success. Two of the customers ended up yelling and left, but he had already gotten far through the order before that happened.

“Yes Ma’am I’ll have that right out to you!”

He smiled and walked away from another customer towards the kitchen, sweating as the exertion began to catch up to him.

“Hey, new order.”

He muttered as he pinned the ticket to the cooks little window, barely listening as they barked out a thank you.

Things weren’t going horrible at-least.

Vincent watched the customers yell as he folded his arms in annoyance. Logically, he should have approached them to help ease the situation. Most customers find it much harder to yell at him rather than his employees. However, it was a couple he'd recognized before. They often complain about the constant menu change, demanding to have what was served prior. They were always exhausting to deal with, leading him to allow Rody to take the fall instead. If there was an actual issue he could help resolve for the better of his business, he would step in.

A couple more minutes passed before the chef ultimately decided that his presence was no longer required. As he entered the kitchen, the small chatter instantly came to a halt. None of the chefs expected to see their boss during the waiter's first day. Normally, he would glare at them, establishing a strict environment from the start. It seemed the strangeness of the newest employee only continued to grow.

Before the head chef's interruption, the cooks had been gossiping about their newest coworker, pointing out how little he fit in. None of them understood how or why he was hired. They had only hoped that he would be the sole focus of their boss's rage. The chances of him lasting longer than a week were extremely low. Just like all of the waiters before him.

Yet with their boss's sudden appearance, their theories may have been completely wrong. They side-eye each other in a silent agreement to talk to the man himself during closing hours.
Rody continued at it for another half an hour, finally reaching a point where everyone in the restaurant was eating, and no-one new was waiting to be seated…

It was during this short break that he noticed Vincent had disappeared. With a sideways glance to the kitchen window, he tried to discern if the man had moved in there, to no avail.

“Maybe if I quickly glance in there he won’t see me… Hopefully the chefs don’t mind.”

He muttered to himself, approaching the swinging door and gently pushing it open, peering inside carefully.

Vincent doesn't see the other man as his focus is completely captivated by a singular chef. A cigarette dangled between his lips, emitting a smooth trail of smoke. His eyes glared at the chef in front of him. The chef in question had yet to make any mistakes; however, with the constant glare, he was bound to mess up eventually.

It was almost as if the head chef was praying for his own downfall, almost as a way to confirm his need to be strict within his kitchen.

Rody relaxed upon noticing that Vincent was in-fact back in the Kitchen. He was leaning against the back wall with a cigarette, predictably hung from between his lips.

Closer inspection showed that Vincent was focused on a specific chef, ensuring he wasn’t making any mistakes. The man was most likely new, so it was expected that Vincent had a close eye on him.

Rody stayed silent, and turned to leave. As he did so however, his eyes suddenly met with those of the chef Vincent was scrutinising.

Rody watched almost in slow motion as the man, in a panic, misplaced the pan he had been holding, causing the object to crash noisily to the ground.

Silence filled the kitchen as all eyes turned to the chef. It was almost as if the walls themselves began to cave in on him. The smoke filling the room spiked in his lungs as he took a deep breath, reaching for the pan. However, he was too late as the head chef grabbed it before he could even touch it. His cold, practically dead eyes stared directly at him.

His voice was caught in his throat as the smoke practically suffocated him. His eyes darted to the floor, tears threatening to spill out. He was consumed by his fears.

Suddenly his collar was grabbed, forcing him to look directly into the other's fierce eyes. He could practically kill a man with his glare. Vincent held the pan close to the side of the other's head; it was practically weightless in his hands as he moved it closer and closer.

"You should consider yourself lucky. If you had dared to waste any of my meals, I wouldn't have hesitated to bash your head in. After all, what professional chef doesn't know how to properly handle his tools?"

Rodys heart hammered away in his chest as he stayed rooted to the floor. His terror stricken eyes flicked between Vincent, and the chef, as the taller of the two slowly brought the pan, no, weapon. Closer to the man’s face.

He was too afraid to move, watching the chef fall apart into silent tears as Vincent spat heady insults in his face.

He felt completely and utterly terrified in that moment. And yet, some weird part of him couldn’t look away from the adrenaline inducing sight.

Scared out of his mind, Rody took a step back with the hopes that the others wouldn’t notice such a small movement.

The head chef's eyes instantly locked onto Rody; his eyes were wide open as his thin pupils scanned the other's face. With the click of his teeth, he released the chef, breaking eye contact, and placed the pan into the nearest sink.

"Clean that pan until it's fucking spotless. I want you to meet me in my office after work. Everyone else, get back to work!"

Placing his cigarette back into his mouth, he practically stomped out of the kitchen, slamming the back door with a heavy thud.

The chef scrambled to the sink, carefully washing the pan until his hands were pruney and sore. The rest of the kitchen's eyes glanced between the waiter and the poor chef before returning to their own work, none of them desiring to be the next victim.

Rody stepped further into the kitchen, the door remaining half open as his chest heaved from the effort that the stress had placed on him. He wasn’t sure what to do. Had he caused this? Should he apologise, or go find Vincent?

Fuck, he would have to take the trash out soon anyway.

His eyes trailed guiltily over to the chef, hiccuping and struggling to calm himself down as he scrubbed at the metal pan, hands red and scratched.

Rody got one look at the other chefs' annoyed glares however, and decided it might be best to just leave and allow everyone a moment to calm down.

The best way to do that… Was to take out the trash.

Rody quickly moved to the trash can, grabbed the overflowing bag, and hesitantly pushed the door open to reluctantly follow Vince outside.

The moment the door opened, Vincent was already prepared to yell at whoever dared to follow him outside. His voice was as harsh as before as he snapped,

"I thought I told all of you to get back to—"

His words instantly died on his tongue once he realized who it was. His eyes slowly looked down to see the other holding a trash bag as he grumbled to himself. He looked away, completely ignoring Rody's presence as he focused on his cigarette. Smoking was the only thing that gave him peace at work.

Rody tensed as soon as he witnessed the others reaction, relaxing when Vincent’s anger fizzled out into a vague annoyance.

He cautiously approached the dumpster, eyes not leaving Vincent’s form as he tossed the bag in with one arm effortlessly.

It was quiet for a moment.

“Hey uh, you okay dude?”

He tried to convey his concern, feeling quite worried if the man was stressed enough to lose his cool like that.

Vincent didn't bother making eye contact with Rody as he simply took another drag of his cigarette. He had no idea why his newest staff was even approaching him. Perhaps he wanted to already quit. What a foolish decision that would be; after all, this was practically his last option. The waiter should be on his knees, practically begging for him not to let him leave. His response was cold and sharp, clearly not wanting to be bothered at this moment.

"I'm fine. What do you want, Lamoree?"

Rody, never one to take the hint when he wasn’t wanted, frowned and remained rooted to the spot.

“Are you okay? You seemed pretty stressed in there… Must be a lot on your plate.”

He crossed his arms, idling in a slightly apprehensive stance as he waited to see what Vincent was going to say.

It was weird, he didn’t feel as afraid as he thought he might?

Vincent sighed, taking out his cigarette box and holding it towards Rody as an offering if he cared to join him. He didn't think much of the action himself despite the fact he had never done that for any other employee. The question didn't mean much to him since little outrages such as before were normal. Nothing was different. The only difference was Rody, which didn't factor into it. However, he would rather avoid verbally admitting his anger issues.

"Again, I'm fine. We've just been understaffed for a while, is all. It'll pass. Speaking of which, shouldn't you be working right now?"

He turned towards his waiter, lifting an accusatory brow to show his displeasure towards the other slacking off. However, there was no true malice behind it.

Rodys body tensed, a guilty smile on his face as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“A-Ah, I just wanted to make sure you were okay first…”

As his eyes trailed to the small square box, he saw only a few sticks of Vincent’s poison of choice remained. He wasn’t really a smoker either, so best not to.

“I’m alright though, I appreciate it but I don’t smoke much. And I wouldn’t want to take one of yours.”

He grinned sheepishly, despite everything, he was enjoying the moment and didn’t want to get back to work yet.

Which was only slightly odd considering what Vincent had just done.

Vincent paused as he stared at Rody in slight disbelief. No one merely asks him about how he is unless they want something. Yet no matter how much he tried to figure it out, he couldn’t pinpoint what it could be. Perhaps he was simply just a genuine person.

He didn’t know how to feel about it.

He nodded in response, putting the box back into his pocket before taking another drag.

“I suppose it’s not an issue as long as we’re not busy and this doesn’t become a habit.”

Rody watched intently as Vincent inhaled and exhaled, clearly quite practiced with the act of smoking. It was becoming common to see him holding a cigar, which implied it was some sort of coping method, most likely pertaining to stress.

“Yeah I think we should be good for another fifteen minutes with the custom- Ah, I mean guests… So I could clean something else if that might help?”

This request could go either way when it came to Vincent. Rody himself normally despised cleaning, but for some reason he felt a need to help the other.

Vincent remains silent for a moment, lost in his own head for a moment before responding.

“I appreciate it, but I already have a cleaning staff that handles that. No need to waste your energy.”

Rody nodded and slowly turned back to the kitchen door, getting the feeling that he should give Vincent some time alone for now, and get back to work.

“Alright then, in that case I’ll go make sure the guests are okay! If you need me I’ll be in the dining room?”

He pulled the door open, still facing Vincent and waiting for his boss to confirm that was okay.

Vincent nodded in response, signaling that Rody could go now. Once the waiter was out of sight, he sighed as he leaned his head against the wall.

Just a moment ago he was angry enough to completely bash his employee's head in with a pan. Yet with just a simple and small conversation, it was gone. He didn’t even feel like yelling at him anymore. It was so unlike him. He loved yelling at his worthless employees.

What the hell was happening to him?

Rody continued working as hard as possible until closing time.

Though he made numerous mistakes, the overall performance he gave was decent, and the more down to earth customers definitely enjoyed his peppy attitude.

“Oh of course, thank you so much sir. We look forward to you dining with us again!”

He just finished conversing with the final customer, and breathed a sigh of relief as the family left. It fell silent as he placed the final bills in the register.

“Finally done… I should take the trash out again now so I don’t have to in the morning.”

He clicked the register closed, and patted down his apron before heading into the kitchen.

In the kitchen, the chefs were all talking to each other, eyes glancing at the office door every now and then to ensure their boss didn’t suddenly come out.

The chef that had dropped the pan earlier had already been called and was given a rather small lecture instead of being completely screamed at. Multiple chefs were by his side, all in shock.

When the dining room door opened, all of them turned to look at Rody.

Until one of them finally spoke,

“This might seem like a weird question, but did you know the boss prior to working here?”

Rody had just entered the kitchen, finding the chefs all congregated around one area. They stared in silence for a moment, then questioned him with urgency.

“Oh uh, I don’t think so, no? Is everything alright-“

He was reasonably confused as it felt like he was being interrogated or something? The chefs hadn’t really spoken to him prior to this…

The one who asked stood there in disbelief as another spoke up.

“Everything is fine, we've just never seen the chef act like.. well that. Normally someone gets fired over something like that but today it was just a slap on the wrist. Then you talked to him while he was still mad and you still have a job!”

Rodys expression wobbled, nervous from the implication of what they were saying.

“Uh, Vincent doesn’t tolerate me any more or less than you guys, trust me. Maybe it’s something else-“

He presumed if the guy seemed any more or less happy as of lately, he most likely had gotten a girlfriend…

Though he didn’t seem like he attracted many women to be honest-

Another chef raised his eyebrow in suspicion as he looked at Rody.

“You get to call him Vincent? Not chef? Kid, I don’t think you’ve been around long enough to know what normal treatment is like. Because clearly you’re not getting any of it.”

Rody panicked, once again forgetting that he was supposed to be calling Vincent ‘chef.’

“Wait no, sorry I am supposed to call him chef I just forget sometimes- Seriously there’s nothing going on here-“

He grinned and nervously clasped his hands. Him and Vincent weren’t exactly friends if that’s what they all were insinuating anyway?

Regardless, they were looking at him with something akin to envy, or fear. He presumed both.

All of the chefs continued to stare him down until finally letting it go. Clearly he didn’t know what was going on either, so there was no point in interrogating him further.

“Alright, if you say so kid. Anyway, welcome to the team. If you have any questions or just want general advice feel free to ask.”
Rody nodded, feeling calmer as he walked to the trash can.

“Thank you, I appreciate that, and sorry for the amount of mistakes I made today… I’ll hopefully get the hang of this fancy stuff soon!”

He smiled cheerfully, eyes darting to the same chef who had been threatened earlier. He seemed shaken even now, head down and remaining much quieter than the others.

Vincent must lose his cool like that a lot according to what the chefs had said? But, it wasn’t really his business as just another employee…

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

He said with a sigh, grabbing the huge bag of trash and stepping out into the dark back alley.

The chefs nod before getting back to their own work. Vincent remained in his office, finishing paperwork, before walking out to check on how closing was going. He picked up the pan that was dropped earlier. Examining it to make sure it truly was cleaned and wasn’t damaged.

He nodded in approval, allowing the chef to breathe in a sigh of relief as he placed it back onto the stove to work on a dish to give to Rody. It was a tradition at his establishment that the newest employee would get a meal. It allowed them to become more familiar with the overall taste.

As he worked on the dish, the chefs began to slowly file out as they completed all of their tasks.

Rody had struggled getting this particular bag into the bin outside. He had perform the usual one handed swing, this time causing the bag to partially rip, and a few things to come falling out.

“Damn it, he’ll kill me if he finds out I left this stuff here…”

With a reluctant sigh, he picked up each fallen item, placing them into the large skip as the night moved on. After an exhausting and cold fifteen minutes, he finally pushed the door open and ducked back inside.

He was surprised to see Vincent standing at one of the stove tops, extremely focused as he cooked something. Rody did his best to stay silent and watch him, truly in awe from watching such a confident chef work.

He looked… Impressive. That’s the only way Rody could describe it.

Vincent didn't notice the waiter enter; his entire focus was on the dish in front of him. For him, cooking was life; this is where he truly felt alive.

The green onion rolls glided along the pan's surface as the chef carefully shifted it to allow cooking evenly on each side. The hot oil popped in satisfying sizzles as a small trail of steam rose from the pan. The sauce was carefully made with blended Marmande tomatoes, vodka, sweet onions, garlic cloves, and balsamic vinegar in the other pan. A savory yet sharp aroma filled the kitchen.

Once he was satisfied with each part, he carefully placed the rolls onto a takeout plate, sprinkling it with fresh parmesan, before placing the sauce in a small container. The rest he placed in another container to serve at his house for the next time he had guests.

Rody watched in silence, completely captivated by the others' cooking. He was so focused, so precise, and so perfect. There was such emotion shoved into this fancy dish. and it seemed much more special than the food the chefs had made earlier.

The smell was something he wouldn’t typically notice either, as he didn’t pay too much attention to any food.

Something about watching Vincent cook however, made him want to eat whatever it was.

He stayed quiet as the other boxed the food up, hoping he wouldn’t be noticed and get into trouble.

He was supposed to have clocked out by now.

Vincent finally looked up, his eyes revealing his surprise to see Rody; however, nothing else gave any note of it. He placed the two dirty pans to the side to wash afterward before picking up the small container and handing it to Rody.

"You did good today. Consider it a small welcoming gift. You're free to go now, sorry for making you wait."

His apology held no real remorse or guilt, but it was the most anyone was going to get out of him. He felt slightly nervous handing it to Rody, a feeling he hadn't felt in a very long time. He was always confident in his cooking. Some would argue that he was too confident in his cooking. Yet here he was feeling as nervous as he did when he just started.

Rodys eyes widened in awe, completely not expecting that the dish was for him.

“For me, really?”

He couldn’t help but grin at Vincent as he gratefully took the box and opened it to peer in at the delicious smelling rolls.

“I’m actually starving, thank you so much, would you mind if I tried them right now?”

He didn’t know proper etiquette in this situation, but he assumed he should ask before just gobbling them up.

Vincent blinked in surprise, his eyes widening slightly before he regained his composure and nodded in response. His nervousness only continued to grow as he watched the other. He couldn't tell if he enjoyed or despised this sensation. It had been so long since he felt anything such as this.

Rody grinned and carefully procured one of the rolls, turning it over carefully to inspect it. It was so much prettier than other food he had tried, despite the fact they lived in one of the biggest food loving countries in the world.

He quickly took a bite, raising his head to think as he chewed each piece.

Rody couldn’t quite fathom why he felt so invested in what Vincent had made. Manon had cooked for him many times, but fuck was it never as good as this.

“This is so good! I knew you were a good chef, but this is on another level Vince…”

In Rodys excitement he almost forgot how he was supposed to be talking, using the, ‘much too friendly for your boss’ nickname.

The tips of his ears turned a tint of red as his face remained completely the same. He fought the urge to turn away in embarrassment. Most people who complimented his food would give more of a technical response about what was perfect about it. Never just a heartfelt compliment...

Once again he was at a loss of how he was supposed to feel or react.

"No problem."

He turned his eyes away from Rody, not wanting to sink further into this feeling as he began to clean the remaining dishes.

Rody laughed at the others reaction, deeming it just as mechanical as ever.

“I honestly gave you a bad wrap this morning, and kind of thought you didn’t put real effort into any of the food here.”

There was no reason to admit any of this to Vince, but he wanted to make sure the other knew he appreciated the delicious meal.

Vince seemed like someone who didn’t put real love into his dishes, especially according to the reviews of food critics… But Rody had tasted emotion. He had tasted what others hadn’t.

“This is amazing though, there’s so much… Emotion? I guess? Sorry I wouldn’t be good at critiquing food-”

He chuckled nervously, polishing off the other rolls as he watched Vince clean.

Vincent's entire body stopped. His head slowly turned towards Rody as his brain repeated those words over and over in his head.

Emotion.

There were emotions in his food.

His entire body was lit on fire with pride and fulfillment. After so long of hearing constant disapproval and disappointment over the lack of such a worthless addition to a meal. Someone had finally seen it. Someone had finally seen how much of himself he placed into his work.

Someone had finally seen him.

Someone had finally enjoyed him.

While his mind was racing with this information, he remained silent, slowly looking away, back to mindlessly washing the dishes. However, his ears were now a deep shade of red.

Rody had noticed the movement, smiling as Vincent stared at him with a look that was unreadable. He seemed happy enough as he turned back around though.

As Rodys eyes darted to a clock hung in the mid section between the two doors in the kitchen, he frowned slightly.

He still needed to try to call Manon.

“Ah, well thank you again Vince, that was delicious, I have to go but I’ll see you early tomorrow morning right? Good night!”

He cheerfully exited the kitchen with a wave to Vincent, who of course was still distracted and completely immersed with the washing up.

Tomorrow didn’t seem like it was going to be half bad.

Chapter Text

Tomorrow was indeed going to be awful.

Vincent lay awake in his bed, hours past the restaurant had closed, stuck staring at his ceiling, replaying what occurred moments ago in his head. over and over and over.

No matter how much he tried, he couldn't think of anything else. He couldn't even think of going to sleep.

A groan escaped as he completely stuffed his face into one of his plush pillows. His new waiter was calling him all sorts of issues. First, it was unexplainable emotions; next, it was unsatisfied customers; and then it was his own employees staring at him differently. Now he couldn't even get a proper night's rest.

Logically, he should cut the problem right at the source. Fire him. Return to his normal, perfect state and search for a more adequate employee.

As simple as it would have been, he would never follow through with it. He simply couldn't.

He was already addicted.

......

After a couple more hours, he was finally able to fall asleep; alas, it was only mere moments until his alarm went off. With a loud groan, he sleepily opened his eyes, practically slamming his alarm off. He slid off his bed, practically dragging himself into the bathroom to continue his usual morning routine.

His eye bags were much more prominent than the day prior. He chuckled to himself, imagining how his employees would be dancing on eggshells around him. Too afraid to further dampen his mood. Well, all of them except for one. He couldn't help but smile as he sipped on his morning shake.

Perhaps today wasn't going to be as miserable as he assumed.

......

Rody himself slept well that night, drinking a can of Miller after Manon once again refused to answer the phone, and passing out soon after.

He slept well, but a little too well. This time when he woke up, he was around twenty minutes away from being late.

“Fuck. I’m going to be so fucked-“

He mumbled, panicking as he rushed to get a quick shower and change.

In fifteen minutes he was haphazardly dressed, his hair decently dry, and ready to dash out the door.

He unfortunately had not noticed at all that it was positively pouring down outside. The moment he left his apartment building, he saw that the rain was falling in buckets though.

He was going to get soaked if he cycled through that… But there was no choice. He couldn’t not show up, especially since he was already late?

And so, he booked it through the rain, practically soaked to the bone by the time he reached La Gueule.

......

Vincent opened the restaurant as usual, exactly the same time as every day before. Just as he expected, the chefs were much more cautious around him, knowing he's likely to snap. Unknowingly to all of them, he was in quite a good mood. After all, the night prior, his favorite little waiter enjoyed his food. Perhaps he would make another dish for him tonight.

However, as each minute passed, his mood dwindled as his patience faded.

He had forgotten the type of person he had hired. He should have lowered his expectations.

His eyes glared at the front entrance, foot tapping against the floor as he waited for it to open. Curses ready to spill the moment he laid eyes on him.

Rody made sure to set his bike down carefully when he got to the restaurant, anxious as he knew he was definitely late this time.

As the rain belted down around him however, he was aware he couldn’t hide out her forever and that he would catch a cold if he stayed in the rain.

“Damn it… Hopefully I haven’t pissed him off, he was in a decent mood yesterday.”

Rody mumbled to himself, cautiously approaching the door and pushing it open.

Vincent's eyes were cold as he glared directly into Rody's; his voice was aggressive as he spat,

"Look, who finally decided to show up! For fuck's sake, Rody, first you're late to your interview, and now you're late to your second day of work!? Do I need to remind you after every shift to not arrive late!? At this point—"

He cut himself off the moment his brain finally registered the fact that the man in front of him was completely soaked from head to toe. All of the anger left, leaving behind pure confusion as he said the first thing that came to mind.

"Why do you look like a drowned rat?"

Rody grinned sheepishly, not taking any of the harsh words to heart. He was honestly expecting more anger, and was surprised when Vincent changed his tune.

“A, drowned rat? Well that’s a new one…”

He mumbled with an exasperated laugh, shaking his head till small droplets of water fell from his curly hair.

“I woke up late again, completely my fault Vince im so sorry… Didn’t even notice it was raining till I left my apartment, and I couldn’t ask someone to bring me by that point…”

His body shivered, completely flooded with water that was now dripping onto the pristine carpets.

“And now I’m ruining the carpets- I’ll clean all this up I swear!”

He sighed, feeling completely put out at how big an inconvenience he was causing.

Vincent stared at him in complete disbelief before shaking his head. How in the hell was he supposed to remain upset with him when he looked that pathetic?

"Here, give me a moment, I'll grab you a spare uniform for you to change into. Just head into the bathrooms for now so you don't continue drenching my floors."

He turned away to leave to search for another uniform as well as a towel to help dry him off. He was expecting the waking-up-late excuse, but he certainly wasn't expecting to see him soaked. He was always full of surprises. A small slip of it onto his lips, however, the moment he noticed it, instantly dropped.

What the hell was wrong with him?

It was most likely due to lack of sleep. Surely that had to be the reason. After all, he wouldn't smile for such a stupid reason.

Once he grabbed everything he needed, he headed towards the bathroom, knocking on the door so he could hand the clothes to Rody.

Rody obeyed without hesitation, quickly moving to the bathrooms and stepping inside. It was warmer in there, and he leant gingerly against the sink whilst waiting.

The feeling of wet fabric against his skin was uncomfortable to say the least, and the warm air was making it even worse. Though his skin had started to regulate, it felt so disgusting being smothered by the wet shirt.

“Well… We’re both guys so it’s fine if I just take it off? I’m not going to sit in this wet shirt.”

With his questionable actions stated to only himself, Rody removed the vest top and unbuttoned the sopping shirt underneath, breathing a sigh of relief as he quickly pulled it off.

“Okay, that’s better.”

He sighed, ringing all the rain water into the sink as he waited for Vince to return.

Vincent grumbled to himself as his knocks were ignored. He assumed he may have just been in a stall or something and didn't hear. Oh how wrong he was. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight in front of him.

His eyes widened as his entire body froze as he entered the bathroom.

The tips of his ears were practically on fire.

His heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest and pathetically fall onto the floor with a disgusting slop sound.

His words were caught in his throat as he pathetically just held the clothes out, unable to look away despite how much he should.

Rody was completely unaware of what was happening, smiling as he turned to face the other.

“Oh you’re back, thank you so much Vince!”

He reached out and took the clothes, placing them on the sinks counter as he shook his head free from any rogue water drops.

Typically he would have hidden his torso the moment anyone entered, this mostly due the spattering of moles that covered it. But, he didn’t feel that way with Vince due to their professional relationship. And of course he was just another guy.

“I seriously need to start being on time though, I’ll do better from now on.”

He hummed softly to himself after that statement, finally picking up the shirt and throwing it on to carefully button it up.

While Rody was completely calm, Vincent was anything but that. His eyes tracked every single micromovement he made. He was completely entranced by it. Surely the other man knew what he was doing. He was practically putting on a show for him!

This was highly unprofessional. He was his boss after all.

Yet he couldn't tear his eyes away.

He couldn't even speak or hear. Anything the other man was saying to him was just mere muffles. Worthless words that were an attempt to distract him.

After a few moments, he finally regained his composure, snapping his head away from the other in embarrassment. His whole body was filled with shame. When he spoke, it was forced and quick, as he wanted to escape this insanity,

"No problem. Use this to dry your hair. I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything. Bye."

He quickly placed the towel on top of the sink before he hurried out of the bathroom, almost slamming the door shut behind him. Without a second thought, he retreated into his office, quickly sitting down at his desk as he finally allowed himself to breathe.

He was a complete mess.

One that he couldn't allow his chefs to see. Yet they all saw him rush into his office with an unreadable expression. It didn't take long for quiet whispers to fill the kitchen. Each one is a different theory of what happened.

Rody stood motionless as Vince left, hands in mid air as he was just starting to button up the shirt.

“What was that…”

He mumbled, confused beyond belief as he quickly buttoned the shirt fully. He hadn’t expected Vince to leave in such a way, and why had he even done so?

Maybe he was uncomfortable with everything, though he didn’t seem the type. He pulled on the vest top over his shirt, and tied the bow in a disgruntled manner.

“No, he most likely remembered something he needed to get done. I shouldn’t expect him to be free all the time.”

Though Rody was confused, he quickly changed his pants as-well, smiling to himself as his eyes caught the towel.

“Still… That was sweet.”

He took the towel and slowly dried his hair, a weird feeling settling in his chest as he mulled over what had just happened. He should probably get to work if he wanted to help alleviate Vinces workload at all.

Vincent remained in his office, trying to simply do paperwork to keep his mind distracted. However, when even that seemed to fail him, he went for his next best solution. His cigarette.

He took a long drag as he closed his eyes and focused purely on the sensation of smoke entering his lungs. It always calmed him. To feel something. Even if he couldn't taste the smoke.

With a long exhale, the smoke filled the room as he opened his eyes.

He would simply forget that ever happened and move on with the rest of his day. It was a fluke due to how little he slept. A simple, forgettable fluke. One that he would let go.

After a couple more drags from his cigarette he returned to the usual Vincent Charboneau.

The whispers that filled the kitchen died the moment he moved back into his usual corner, eyes scanning the kitchen to ensure perfection.

Rody went about his usual routine, falling further into comfortability with the role as he served customer after customer.

There were of course still a few hiccups, and a customer from yesterday straight up left when they saw him… But he was definitely getting better….

He was getting better.

Something that hadn’t happened with his other service positions.

“Hey, another Gratin Dauphinois coming your way…”

He called to the cooks, now at a level where he would hand the ticket over and engage in a little chit chat with all of them. They were much less scary than he had originally perceived.

“Your Raspberry Meringues Ma’am… Enjoy!”

He cheerily walked away from another almost finished customer, noting that there was a gap in service that would allow him to take out the trash as usual.

He quickly headed for the kitchen door, pushing it open and greeting the cooks as he stepped inside.

Vincent looked away from the chefs to watch what Rody was doing. Seeing how he wasn't off task, he resumed looking back at the chefs.

Besides, looking at him would only remind him of what he was trying to forget.

Something he cannot think about.

He was already itching for another cigarette.

The chefs seemed to notice his mood shift as the kitchen grew quiet once more. It was strange how differently the two men influenced the room. One made it bright and welcoming, while the other made it cold and overwhelming.

Rody hummed to himself as he walked towards the trash can, eyes doing a quick sweep of the kitchen.

His gaze instinctively dawdled on Vince, standing in his corner as usual. He was observing the cooks, making sure they were working like the well oiled machine they were supposed to work as.

He shook his head and looked away when he realised he had been staring, now focused on hauling the garbage bag up and out of the can.

“Ugh…”

His nose wrinkled at the meat drippings that were coating the bottom of the bag. It was presumably from some sort of meat that had to be disposed of, which made sense considering today's menu didn’t have too much meat.

“Anyone need anything else brought to the bin?”

He turned towards the chefs, figuring he could dispose of anything they needed removed while he was out there.

A couple of them handed him their potato skin along with any fat pieces of meat. They thanked him of course, expressing how helpful he was.

Vincent felt nothing towards the entire ordeal. They were all working together. As any staff member should. There was nothing special about lending a hand. It was what was expected. Yet here his employees were, practically acting as if he was a saint over nothing.

One of them seemed to notice his glare harden as he silently handed Rody his trash, offering nothing but a small smile.

Rody nodded and turned to leave the room, exchanging a suspicious glance with Vince as he did so. He shivered slightly, the others dark eyes burned into his mind.

“He is so difficult to read…”

He muttered to himself, placing the trash gently into the bin to avoid a repeat of yesterday.

He was in no mood to pick up various odd bits of old food, and his nose was already wrinkled from the putrid smell the bag was creating.

It should have smelt of many things. Rotten vegetables, soured fruits, etc… But it really only smelt of rotten meat.

“I should probably check in with Vince...”

He decided to look for the quickest excuse to get away from the smell, ducking back into the kitchen and heading for Vince with a sigh.

“Hey Vince, how’s things going in here?”

Vincent turned to him with a confused expression that quickly shifted into unamused.

"Vince? Just call me chef. Things are fine. I should be the one asking you how things are going out there. How many customers have left already?"

Rody pursed his lips, forgetting once again that he couldn’t be calling Vince by that name… Especially in-front of the cooks.

“Right, sorry chef…”

His tone turned to one of indignation at the second comment however.

“Hey! I’ll have you know that only like three people have left so far!?… That is if you don’t count the two that remembered me from yesterday and didn’t even sit down…”

He realised it sounded a lot more pathetic than he had originally thought it had sounded.

Rody nervously shifted on his feet, aware this didn’t look good on him.

Vincent sighed as he reached for his cigarette box as an attempt to distract himself from over analyzing how much money that costed him.

"I shouldn't have even asked. So, what do you want?"

Rody wrinkled his nose as Vince reached for another cigarette.

“You should be careful with those, people have started saying that they can make you sick you know?”

Only recently had he seen a few news outlets begin to document the harmful effects the tiny sticks could cause.

“I don’t understand how you can tolerate the taste they leave in your mouth either-“

He vaguely remembered the one time in his youth he had tried one of the things for the first time… It wasn’t terrible, but god the coughing fit he fell into…

Vincent rolled his eyes, not really caring about what the other had to say. He may have been slightly touched if his concern was in regard to something else. But not towards his addiction. He knew it was an issue. He just simply didn't care. It was a better option than stopping after all. Out of spite, he blew his first drag directly at his face, smiling in satisfaction to see the other cough in response.

"If this was going to kill me, it would have already done so. Besides, I can't taste it anyway. Now are you going to tell me what you want or are you going to keep wasting my time?"

Rodys cheeks felt warm after that, eyes trained on the way Vince grinned with his eyes lidded… Though it was definitely the smoke that made him feel all fuzzy and light headed.

His brain caught up with the words in a sudden flash however, and his eyes widened.

“Wait, you can’t taste? Aren’t you a chef though?”

He couldn’t help how his mouth hung open, completely taken aback by this revelation.

Vincent choked slightly, coughing into his hand, not expecting the other to be so shocked.

"Keep your voice down, the entire restaurant doesn't need to hear!"

He shakes his head, taking another drag, this time blowing away from Rody.

"I lost it when I was younger. Can't smell or taste a thing."

Rody couldn’t help but chuckle at the reaction, finding it to be endearing. So he did get nervous over some things.

“Alright, message received calm down.”

Vince continued coughing slightly, soon mellowing out as he just eyed Rody.

“That is interesting though… What, did you eat dirt or bugs or something as a kid?”

Rody grinned and laughed slightly at the joke, the idea of Vince being that kind of weird kid just did not seem possible in his mind.

Vincent couldn't help but chuckle as he shook his head.

"No, but you're close. It was worms."

Normally people would feel pity for him when they heard about it, offering him sweet nothings that he was tired of hearing. Being able to talk about it casually was refreshing. He began to loosen up as the conversation continued.

"You seem like the type of kid who would have eaten mud. Wouldn't be shocked if you still do."

Rody gathered from the way Vince spoke that he would rather not have pity. It wasn’t holding him back in the slightest anyway, so why feel bad?

“Well it’s not like it matters, you’re cooking is still to die for so who needs that stuff!”

The next comment earned Vince an involuntary laugh, the statement reminding Rody of his chaotic younger self.

“Hey, I think I ingested more sand than anything… Think I liked the crunch or something weird like that?”

He couldn’t help but keep laughing, enjoying seeing Vince smile for once.

However, the moment couldn't last much longer. The moment Rody mentioned his cooking, Vincent's expression instantly fell.

He had almost forgotten about that. This was someone who had fully appreciated his cooking. Even complimenting it for "emotions" in the dish. It was such a useless compliment that he had been for so long. Now he finally had it in his grasp, yet he felt unprepared for it. He hadn't worked for it. All he did was cook a simple dish.

Nothing special.

Nothing he could replicate.

It was likely only to be a fluke. Perhaps the waiter was simply caught in his excitement over a free meal and confused his own emotions with the dish.

His expression darkened at the thought as he went silent, offering nothing but a nod.

Rody had instantly felt the atmosphere shift, his laughter ceasing as he stepped back from Vince, sensing the conversation was over.

He had definitely overstepped, and would need to get a better handle on what exactly was setting him off.

“Well uh, thank you for the conversation, I was dying of boredom out there… I’m gonna head back to work but goodluck!”

He gave Vincent a mock salute and waved to the cooks before stepping back out into the dining room, back in business mode.

He smiled like normal, and began taking various new orders.

Only a small, deeply buried part of himself felt the weight of his heart after accidentally upsetting the other…

Vincent nodded in acknowledgment to the other leaving. It was for the best. Their conversation was just a waste of time after all. Time that was most likely cost him money. He clicked his tongue, taking a long drag from his cigarette. None of the chefs dared to make eye contact with him. They didn't know whether or not to be relieved for the small interval of peace or annoyed at Rody for only worsening their boss's mood.

Most of them went with the latter since the waiter could escape from his wrath while they could not. For now, all they could do was watch the clock and hope their shift would end soon.

Rody continued giving his best work until the very end of the day, once again bidding the last customer goodnight, and reminding himself to throw out the trash.

It was a task he disliked doing in the morning, preferring mid day and the end of the day as the best times to do it.

It was a routine for him.

“Thank you for dining with us, have a lovely evening!”

He chirped to the final straggler, clicking the register shut and carrying the last few scraps from various tables into the kitchen to be disposed of.

He pushed the kitchen door open with his hip, carrying a tray with both hands as his eyes scanned the area.

Vince must be in his office.

“Well, he did have a long day…”

He was only slightly disappointed as he grabbed the trash bag and headed outside, some part of him hoping to see the other again before he left.

Unfortunately for Rody, he just barely missed Vincent as he reentered the kitchen to begin work on another dish for him. Normally it was only one dish for your first day, but something was different this time. Perhaps he just wanted to ensure if it was a fluke or not.

He would never admit it was anything else.

Rather than going for something savory like last time, he decided to go for something sweet.

In a medium-sized mixing bowl, he carefully cracked three fresh eggs, each one perfectly splitting in the center. He then poured in half a cup of water, followed by a full cup of milk, the two liquids blended seamlessly. Once satisfied with its smooth texture, he drizzled in two tablespoons of melted butter, adding a soft richness to the dish. Finally, he skillfully sifted in a cup of flour, ensuring no lumps would form. He gently yet steadily whisked the ingredients together in precisely timed circular motions until the batter smoothly slid off the metal of the whisk.

He hummed to himself in satisfaction as he set the bowl aside to rest, focusing his attention on the next step, the blueberry sauce. In a separate saucepan, he poured in a cup of freshly blended blueberries along with a quarter cup of water, thinning out the mixture. He carefully drizzled in sugar, adding to the sweetness of the berries before whisking in a teaspoon of cornstarch to thicken the sauce. Lastly, a splash of vanilla extract is placed upon the stove under medium heat.

As the sauce began to cook, he refocused his attention onto the crepe batter, slowly pouring it onto the pan and moving it in circular motions to create a perfectly even circle. Carefully he watched the sides before flipping it, revealing a soft golden surface. He repeated this action until all of the batter was used.

With a small smile, he carefully placed the crepes into a to-go container, drizzling the sauce as well as a couple of blueberries and whipped cream used on the desserts prior as a final touch. A sweet scent filled the entire kitchen as the crepes cooled on their plate. Each one was perfect, not a single mistake.

As expected from Vincent Charboneau.

Rody meanwhile was carefully disposing of the trash, taking note that the putrid smell from earlier had gotten worse. He had overheard from the cooks that they had to dispose of a large amount of rotten lamb.

So that explained the smell.

He got rid of the trash and stepped to the side, sighing as he looked up into the sky. There was so many stars out tonight. He sighed and looked away.

“I really hope she’s okay…”

He muttered, lip wobbling as he re-entered the kitchen, trying to push the detrimental thoughts of Manon into the back of his mind.

Rody was surprised to find Vincent back in the kitchen, baking something he assumed from the sickeningly sweet smell that filled the air.

He wondered if whatever it was, was for him? Though he doubted it since Vince said that was a one time thing…

A part of him yearned for the dish to be his.

“Hey Vince, what are you making today?”

This time he greeted the other, feeling less apprehensive as he watched from a little ways away.

Vincent looked up from his task for a moment, making eye contact with Rody, before looking away again.

"Blueberry crepes. Nothing impressive."

He could have chosen a dish more complicated to make, but he was truly exhausted by the end of the shift. Plus, he highly doubted Rody had any preferences for food. He seemed like the type of person to eat anything in front of him.

Rody grinned, noticing that the other hadn’t corrected him with the name this time.

“Oh sounds nice! Smells like it anyway.”

He slowly approached, maintaining a decent distance from Vince as he watched him finish the dish up.

“You hungry then? Don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you eat…”

He followed with a chuckle, leaning against a nearby counter as a yawn escaped him. It was getting decently late by now.

Vincent grimly chuckled at the idea of eating his own food. He knew his preferences for texture, ones that no one else would be able to replicate, but even that wasn't enough motivation to cook for himself. It was just a waste if he couldn't truly appreciate his work.

Those who can't appreciate it don't deserve it.

"No, I have food back in my apartment."

He finished closing the container before handing it to Rody.

Rodys eyes lit up as he excitedly took the box. He was practically salivating from the smell.

“Really, for me?! Have to say I was hoping it was…”

He happily peeled back the containers lid, evaluating each and every detail of how the crepes looked before he picked one up.

They of course looked exquisite, and he had no doubt they would taste just as good.

Rody took a greedy bite, covering his mouth this time as he chewed the delicious pastry.

“I think this somehow tops yesterdays dish, though I do have a sweet tooth… The blueberries are so fresh and delicious!”

He grinned and polished off the first crepe, speaking in between bites so as not to be rude. Vince was really going to be keeping him well and fed.

Vincent offered a small smile before grabbing the dirty dishes to begin cleaning them. He didn't know how to feel. He said nothing about the emotions within the dish, yet somehow they're better. Most likely due to his preference, as he said. Or he didn't feel the need to repeat the same compliments as the day before....

Or perhaps he was merely lying to him to continue getting free food.

He set the pan into the sink with more force than he would have liked, fighting to keep his expression completely neutral. He didn't look up as he began scrubbing. He wasn't in the mood to nitpick the other's expression to figure out his theory. He would be able to solve it another day.

"Figured you weren't going to eat anything tonight. Again, it's nothing impressive."

Rody sheepishly chuckled, knowing that Vince was somewhat right. He would most likely waste an hour trying to call Manon, and after that go to the kitchen, only to deem it too messy and head straight to bed.

With the large amount of sleep he got it was a wonder how he always woke up so late.

“Well I guess… But I think I’d rather eat your food over any other option anyway to be honest.”

He reiterated this point by taking a bite of the second crepe. He himself was starting to feel guilty that Vince kept cooking for him.

He was a terror in the kitchen, so it’s not like he could return the favour either.

“Still though, is this not costing you to be making these dishes for me? I mean you are paying me a hefty amount on top of this-“

He would never take advantage of someone’s generosity, and it felt weird being on the receiving end of someone else’s money. Especially after dating Manon.

Vincent didn't react to the compliments in regard to his food, he was used to hearing things such as that. It was nothing new. However, he was completely caught off guard by the mention of money. He slowly turned his head, his entire expression was screaming that Rody was a complete idiot.

"Technically, yes. However, you see how many meals get wasted in this restaurant. This isn't even something I would factor into the budget."

A cruel smile spread on his face as he continued to talk.

"Is this your way of asking me to dock your pay? I will say that's a first, but who am I to deny such a request."

Rody froze and stuttered out different sentence starters, embarrassed as Vince grinned at him with ill intent.

“N-No, that is not at all what I meant!?”

He coughed slightly, the crepe he was eating getting caught in his throat for a second too long as he swallowed it.

“I meant I wish I could do something to repay you for being so nice… But if you’re cool to just keep feeding me, who am I to argue.”

He ended with a cocky smile, playing right into Vinces trap one too many times had him acting a bit too brave it would seem.

Vincent chuckled at how quickly Rody instantly regretted his words. It was a nice little reminder of why he even interviewed him in the first place.

"If you say so, just don't expect a raise anytime soon. As for repayment, I'll let you know if I need it."

He finished washing up the dishes, carefully drying them with a rag as he put them away.

"If you're done, you should clock out. I'm not paying you to just sit here and eat."

Rody wrinkled his nose as usual when something bothered him, letting it go as he watched Vince clean.

“Yeah yeah, Mr. money bags over here everyone…”

He raised his brows in surprise at the final statement, glancing to the clock and realising with a sigh that he really should be home by now.

“Ah, didn’t realise the time… They say it flies when you’re having fun.”

He smiled as he collected the final crepe still in the box and prepared to leave, turning back to Vince to get a final comment in before he left.

“Also I’ll have you know that if anything, I’m getting paid to look nice… According to our interview that is. Goodnight Vince.”

He grinned one last time before darting out the door, giving the other no time to retaliate.

The sound of a pan dropping and banging against the floor echoed across the kitchen. The chef's ears were a tint of red as his expression was complete shock and disbelief. After a couple of seconds, he embarrassingly picked up the fallen pan, returning to the sink to rewash it.

His new waiter was going to be the death of him.

Chapter Text

Rody woke up the next morning, and was shockingly quite early. Last night had seemed like it was going to end well, but after another painful silent episode from Manon... He was at his breaking point.

The empty cans of both Miller and Coors that littered his living room table were all the proof needed of such desperation.

“Okay, time to actually take my time showering for once…”

Rody stumbled to the bathroom and took a nicer shower than that of the past few days. Getting dressed and ready with even a little bit of time to spare.

His eyes had wandered over to the kitchen at one point, but upon thinking of Vinces cooking skills, and his own… He wondered if he might try to sneak something from the other this morning.

“He does throw out less than perfect dishes so, maybe he’ll let me eat one of those since I am going to be early for once…”

With that he pulled his bike outside, setting off at a fast pace to reach the restaurant as early as possible. A whole twenty minutes before open.

......

Just as the night before, Vincent was completely unable to sleep. His eyes were begging for him to allow them to rest further, but alas, he had work to do. He sleepily got ready for the day, unlocked the restaurant, and then supervised the chefs. Seeing Rody arrive early was a nice surprise, yet one that he didn't feel the need to compliment.

He shouldn't be proud of him for something as simple as that.

Rody got prepared for the day like usual, forgetting about any hunger when he noticed one of the chairs had a slight stain on the it.

He grabbed some cleaner from the kitchen and spent most of the time before open ensuring it was okay, and thanking the heavens that he had noticed it.

After that the customers began filing in like usual, with most of them acting a lot nicer than days previous. It would seem today might be the first time no one would leave angrily… Or at-least that’s what he had been hoping.

“Okay Ma’am, and here’s your-”

“Excuse me, waiter boy.”

Rody cringed as the patron he was currently serving turned to him with a snappy remark. The women’s eyes looked wicked, and he saw his good streak slipping away.

“Yes, is everything okay?”

He tried to maintain his typical cheer as she glared disgustedly up at him.

“Can you tell me what this is boy?”

Rody stared down at the long, feminine length hair held in her hand.

“I-I believe it’s a hair Ma’am?”

His blood ran cold. He was going to be in so much trouble despite the fact that the hair was blonde. It was most likely hers, but he was the only one with long hair around here. Vince was not going to be happy with him.

“How, dare you speak to me like I’m an idiot?! It’s your filthy hair in my damn food?! Get me your manager you disgusting fool.”

Rody stood motionless, aware that everyone in the dining room was watching the scene, watching him stand there like the fool she had called him.

“Do I need to repeat myself? God they really hire anyone these days…”

Rody shook his head quickly and averted his eyes. He told himself he wasn’t crying as his vision clouded over, overwhelmed from all the recent stress as he ran into the kitchen to get Vince.

Vincent was in his usual corner, smoking to keep himself awake. The shift had barely started, and he already felt a headache forming. His eyes narrowed the moment he noticed Rody entering the kitchen, it was never a good sign, especially when he looked like a lost puppy.

"What do you want?"

Rody swallowed thickly as he made eye contact with Vince, completely embarrassed about how pathetic he must look like right now.

He didn’t usually cry, but couldn’t handle people yelling at him.

“I-I’m so sorry Vince, there’s a woman in the dining room and she found a hair in her food and uh, she’s demanding to see a manager… I-I didn’t know what else to do-“

He tried to not let on how much he was internally hyperventilating. The thought of going back out there without Vince in tow was terrifying.

What if he fired him over this, he couldn’t lose his job?!

His eyes widened further as he psyched himself out with drastic thoughts.

Vincent slowly pulled his cigarette out of his mouth, snapping it in half before pressing it against the wall to put it out. He hated dealing with customers. Unlike his employees, he couldn't call them out for their idiocy but rather suck up and agree with them until they're happy. It was exhausting.

With a final glare direct towards Rody, he plastered on his customer service smile. It hurt his face to do so, but it was mandatory. Anyone who knew the chef personally could tell it was fake, but to the customers it was something to fawn over.

The chefs all looked away from the two, not wanting to be caught in the cross fires.

"I see... Which table is it? I'll handle it."

His voice was too chipper, it was almost unnerving to see him acting in such a way.

Rody swallowed thickly, stepping away from Vince as the other smiled sweetly at him.

“Uh, r-right this way I’ll show you…”

He mumbled to himself, trailing out of the kitchen like a dog with its tail between its legs.

“That lady over there, see she’s already gesturing you to go over.”

Rody hung back for the moment, waiting to see if Vince wanted him to follow.

The smile was creepy, and not at all his natural one. Rody would prefer he glare at him at this point…

Vincent's smile didn't falter as he looked over at her.

"Thank you, Rody, you're free to go serve other customers now."

He didn't wait for his response as he made his way towards the customer. His voice was sickeningly sweet as he spoke.

"Good afternoon ma'am, I've heard there's an issue regarding your meal?"

Rody nodded, and instantly moved to help one of the other guests, attempting to smile and wave it off as they asked if everything was okay.

The woman sneered up at Vincent the moment she saw him, an act not many would attempt.

“Yes. You see, the little imbecile you call a server over there has dropped one of his vile hairs into my meal.”

She spoke each word loud enough so that most of the surrounding tables could hear, holding up the long bright blonde hair as she stared expectantly at the chef.

Vincent's anger towards Rody faded slightly, seeing that it wasn't his fault. He faked a slight shock as he stared at the hair, acting as if this never happened within the restaurant.

"I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience, ma'am. I'll make sure to discuss this matter with him after work. I'll get the chefs to remake your dish right away. If you decide to order dessert, it will be on the house. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

She glared up and down at Vincent, shaking her head as if it was obvious that she didn’t want anything else.

“That’s all, just thought you ought to know what kind of idiots you’re employing. I appreciate the fix Mr. Charboneau.”

She took a short sip of the red wine on her table, eyes sliding over to glare at Rody as she seemed to calm down at the thought of free dessert.

“I would considering looking for a new server.”

She finally muttered, her piece said and done.

His smile twitched ever so slightly. Clearly close to his breaking point. His head constantly reminded him that this was a customer, someone that he must show respect to no matter what.

"Thank you, I will keep that in mind."

He took the dish with him, not bothering to look back. The moment the kitchen doors shut behind him, his entire face dropped; rage practically seeped off of him. He walked over to the trash can, throwing the dish, including the plate, inside. The sound of it shattering echoed inside the kitchen. All of the chefs turned to look, afraid it had been one of their mistakes. Their eyes only fueled his rage.

"Get back to work! I need this dish remade as fast as possible!"

He stalked back to his corner, quickly fishing out a cigarette to calm his nerves.

Rody had watched the whole ordeal wide eyed, following Vinces entire walk back to the kitchen with his eyes and cringing as he heard the muffled crash from inside.

Thankfully, none of the diners noticed it at all. But Rody had a feeling he was going to be in deep shit later on with Vince…

For now he focused on the diners, diligently bring the rude woman her new dish and profusely apologising as she waved him off. She no longer cared, happy that she had actually managed to get a free dessert.

It was annoying but, thus is the industry.

“I recommend a Chardonnay for the sautéed mushrooms specifically, but it is completely your choice… You’ll do that? Perfect I’ll have it right out!”

He felt much calmer as he soon slipped back into the regular routine, eventually coming to his mid day stand-still like usual.

That meant he had to go take out the trash. And to do that, he had to go into the kitchen.

He swallowed the fear and cautiously approached the kitchen door, peeking inside like usual..

The environment within the kitchen was almost suffocating as the scent of smoke overwhelmed the room. Each chef worked diligently, too afraid of what would occur if they were to make a mistake. Vincent's eyes slowly scanned over each and every one of them, patiently watching and preparing to point out a mistake. The slightest noise would cause his attention to shift.

Everyone desired for this shift to end.

Yet they weren't even halfway through the day.

All of the chef's eyes turned towards Rody for a moment as he entered; each one was filled with concern.

Rody waved to a few of the cooks, taking great care to not distract any as he approached the garbage bin.

He was too scared to look Vincent in the eyes, still feeling guilty about earlier.

As he reached into the bin like usual, he grabbed the trash bag firmly by its sides in a usual attempt to haul the heavy matter up.

He managed to pull the bag out of the can, but released a loud shout as movement caused a sharp object to slice against his hand. He instantly dropped the bag in a panic, clutching his hand as it ripped and spilled all across the floor.

“I- Ah-”

Rody stammered, stepping away from the trash as he looked down at his hand. It was practically leaking blood.

He really couldn’t stop making messes.

“Chef I-I don’t even, I’m so sorry something sharp must have been in the trash… It just ripped when I dropped it?”

Vincent stood still, motionless.

“I’ll clean it up now I swear, just let me stop the bleeding-”

All eyes were on the chef as he slowly moved towards Rody. Each step is perfectly in tune with the other. Calculated. Measured. Precise. Everything that Vincent Charboneau should be.

However, his temper would never be controlled, such as everything else.

The room was silent aside from a loud slap.

The chef's bony hand slapped across the waiter's cheek.

His eyes darkened as he stared directly at him, his arm still raised. Everyone was frozen, completely taken aback by what just occurred. It was almost as if time stopped.

No one wanted to step in and break the two up; all they could do was watch in horror.

In almost an instant, his rage faded as he bent down onto one knee, softly holding the other's hand. He didn't apologize, nor did he look guilty. Only sympathetic concerning the cut. It was almost as if nothing happened.

"It looks deep. We'll have to disinfect it. I have a first aid kit in my office. One of the chefs will clean up the mess."

He stood up without waiting for Rody to respond or react; with calculated steps, he began to make his way toward his office, clearly expecting Rody to follow him.

Rody stood rooted to the spot, his hand clutching the bright red side of his face as tears stung his eyes.

“What the fuck…”

He mumbled, staring in confusion at the cooks as a few of them moved to quickly clean everything up.

He didn’t feel as sore as he should have felt… Nor did he feel like running from the building, like any sane person would do after such abuse.

He only had one thought, and so of course he followed after Vincent like the obedient employee he was, still clutching his bloodied finger.

Vincent's office reeked heavily of smoke; everything was carefully organized. His desk was filled with piles of papers; each one was practically illegible. He grabbed the first aid kit from inside his desk before sitting down and gesturing towards the other chair.

Rody instinctively closed the door behind him as he stepped into the dark room. It felt and smelled hazy, almost appearing blurred due to the deep reds and blacks that coloured everything.

He followed Vincent’s wordless instructions with hesitation, only taking a seat to avoid the other getting annoyed again.

He clutched his finger purely on instinct, eyes flitting everywhere in the room to avoid seeing what the other man was doing.

Vincent softly pushed Rody’s other hand away as he softly dabbed a cotton ball drenched in alcohol against the cut. He completely ignored the other’s winces as he continued to disinfect. Once he was satisfied, he carefully wrapped it.

“Do you think you’ll be alright to continue working?”

Rody eventually glanced down to his hand, watching as Vincent carefully cleansed and wrapped up the cut. The disinfectant indeed stung, but it was definitely better than having to treat any possible infections later on, so he remained still.

The mans touch was surprisingly gentle anyway, and Rodys apprehension was soon eased.

“I should be okay, as long as it’s clean and not bleeding too badly the customers can’t say anything anyway…”

Rody flexed his finger, wincing at the pain that the action caused. It was definitely going to leave a scar, but thank god he didn’t need stitches at-least.

Vincent nodded in response before leaning back in his chair. He needed a moment away from the kitchen. He already knew how the chefs would react the moment he left. They would all turn to him with eyes that looked like the world was ending.

He reached for his third cigarette of the day; after all, he wasn’t able to finish any of them yet. However, the moment he attempted to light it, his lighter stopped working. He clicked his tongue in annoyance before putting it away. If he got desperate, he could just light it with one of the stoves.

His eyes eventually went back to Rody, almost forgetting that he was there. His cheek was still red from where he had slapped him. He couldn’t describe how he felt about it.

“What’s your favorite meal?”

Rody watched as Vincent threw the lighter back into a drawer, looking slightly antsy as he glanced up at him.

The question caught him off guard, as Vincent typically wasn’t the curious one between them both-

“Me? Well I’m honestly not that much of a foodie or a cook myself… I guess whatever my girlfriend makes? She typically is the one that cooks for me.”

Rody answered casually, just the thought of Manon calming him to some degree.

He knew he shouldn’t keep calling her his girlfriend, but that wasn’t something he was ready to accept yet.

Vincent’s expression was pure disgust. Food was such an essential part of his life, he couldn’t understand simply leaving it up to someone else.

“I didn’t think there was an incorrect answer to that question. Guess you proved me wrong.”

Rody instantly felt the need to backtrack, and just name some random food that he liked in the hopes it would appease Vincent.

But he really truly didn’t care much for the food itself.

If anything his food preferences were based on the person who prepared it, rather than the taste itself. Right now that would make Vincent’s food his favourite…

But he wasn’t going to tell him that.

“Hey! It’s not like you even have a favourite food? You can’t taste anything.”

Rody attempted to come off as smart, looking extremely proud of his retort.

Vincent stared at him completely unamused. He crossed his arms almost defensively.

“It’s lemons.”

Rodys expression hardened, confused by the simple sentence.

“What is lemons? Huh?”

It took a moment for the words to actually click.

“Wait, your favourite food is lemons- But… You said you can’t taste anything?”

He was admittedly stumped by the absurd notion.

Vincent's expression doesn't shift at all.

"There's more to food than just taste. There's texture, temperature, spice, and in the case of lemon, sourness. I still feel the sensation even if I can't taste it."

“Oh… So your tongue can still feel things? I thought it would be numb or something-”

He was smart enough to know taste typically occurred in the tongue, so he assumed something might’ve numbed it for the chef to not be able to taste things.

Rody looked down for a moment, contemplating Vincent’s original question again with his new perspective.

“So there’s a lot more to food than just surface level… Like emotion and feeling for example?”

His eyes slid back up to watch Vincent again.

Vincent’s eyes darkened slightly as he scoffed.

“According to my critics yes. However, I don’t think so. Emotions have no place in the kitchen. I’m a professional Chef. If people want ‘heartfelt meals’ they go to their parents. Not a restaurant.”

It was clearly a sore subject. He reached back for the lighter, flicking it to see if it would magically work this time. It didn’t.

Rody was surprised to hear such a take from Vincent. His dishes already had a lot of feeling in them however, so it made sense he wouldn’t particularly care.

“Yeah, that’s coming from the guy who makes food that has his soul poured into it…”

Rody grouchily rolled his eyes and sighed.

“I tried to make cereal one time, and somehow burned it. Try being that bad at something.”

Watching as Vinces lighter failed to work made Rody think back to if he had his matches with him. He plunged his hand into his pants pocket and began rooting around while the other simply watched.

Vincent grumbled slightly at the other's compliment; it was practically under his breath.

“You’re the only one who thinks that…”

However, his sour expression wouldn’t last long as he stared at Rody in a mix of shock and amusement.

“Honestly, that shouldn’t surprise me. No wonder you practically drool all over my floor every time I make you something.”

Rody glanced up at the mumbling, but didn’t hear a single word of what was said. He just stared at Vince suspiciously as he finally found the matchbox.

“And here I was trying to get a match for you.”

He pulled the box out and held it between two fingers, giving Vince a pointed stare as he did so.

“You know I’m not sure you need it though, you smoke enough anyway am I right?”

He grinned as he feigned putting the box away again.

Vincent stared at the match, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t used to others doing things for him. There was always a catch to every action. However, he couldn’t find it.

He remained silent, not even reacting to the other’s playful remark. He placed the cigarette in between his lips and leaning in slightly to allow the other to light it.

Rody paused, taken aback by Vinces serious expression. His eyes were completely void of the annoyance he had expected… The man just stared patiently up at him.

“You…”

Rody trailed off, finding no right words for the situation. He had never been so hyper aware of the other man’s presence?

He didn’t understand any of this.

So, he simply took a match out of the box, fumbling slightly as he lit it and held the small stick close to the cigarette hung between the others lips. Those pale, thin, lips.

His hands were so close to Vinces face, and the match practically lit up his eyes in the most peculiar way.

Vincent’s eyes never left his. He was completely captivated.

However, the moment was only temporary as a soft trail of smoke began to spark from his cigarette.

He leaned back in his chair, taking a long drag. His entire body relaxed as he did.

Rody blinked rapidly, his body still suspended across the table with the lit match.

He soon snapped out of it, quickly blowing the flame out and sitting back into his chair, rigid and uncomfortable.

He was unable to tear his eyes away from Vincent, and the room suddenly felt much warmer.

“Charcoal…”

He breathed out, practically in a daze as he continued watching Vincent’s relaxed eyes.

Vincent raised an eyebrow in confusion, tilting his head slightly. It was a habit that he had since he was a kid. One that no matter how much he tried, he was never able to get rid of.

“Hmm?”

Rodys mouth wobbled, his face flushed as he realised he had spoke out loud.

“Ah, ch-charcoal… You know like fire? And uh, charcoal… Just a joke-“

He muttered out the half ass excuse, avoiding eye contact as Vince peered at him like some kind of curious feline.

He was so confused by everything.

Vincent blinked in confusion, before deciding to drop it.

“Right….”

He took another long drag, making sure to blow it away from Rody. He snickered slightly with a small playful smile.

“Thank you. Who knows if this happens again you might get a raise.”

Rody nodded along, his eyes squinting in slight confusion for a moment.

“A raise? Oh right, job, yeah…”

For a second he had forgot about all his responsibilities, all the money he needed… Even Manon.

For a moment it felt like he and Vince were even friends.

“Well if being nice to you is all it takes to get a raise, you must hire some assholes?”

Rody attempted to return to his joking demeanour.

Vincent chuckled, this time making sure not to choke on smoke.

“Mostly just spineless cowards. I’m sure you’ve already heard the gossip.”

He truly didn’t mind the rumors going around the kitchen. It made them leave him alone, which he preferred.

Rody had heard many things about the restaurant, most good, yet some reasonably horrid.

“I wouldn’t be sure? I hear a lot of things about this place, especially since starting the job-”

Vince in particular had been subject to many polarising rumours. They were all so different, and with so many people contradicting it was always smart to not trust them.

He liked Vince anyway. The man seemed like a good person, despite what some ex employees would say.

Vincent shrugged in response before looking at the clock. They had spent too much time chatting. The chefs probably assumed he killed Rody at this point.

"You should probably get back to the dining room. I would prefer not to have to talk to any more customers for the rest of the shift."

Rody practically shot out of his seat, nervously nodding as he backed away towards the door.

“Right! I have a ton of things I could be doing and I’m sure you’re really busy… Oh and, thank you for helping with the cut by the way.”

He said the last part softly, genuinely thankful for the help. He was still confused as hell about earlier, but thought it best to not ask when Vince seemed to be in such a good mood.

Rody smiled one last time, and stepped out into the kitchen, getting practically blinded by the much lighter atmosphere.

Vincent offered a small smile along with a nod before standing up as well. As both of them exited the office, all of the chef's eyes snapped towards them. They all expected him to be walking out with tears running down his face. Not with...

That expression.

It seemed they may have something new to gossip about.

Rody instantly felt all the eyes on them. He smiled apprehensively as all of the cooks blatantly stared at him, in utter shock.

“Hey guys… Sorry you had to clean up my mess, I’ll be more careful from now on-”

He walked towards the dining room door as he spoke, stepping back into the big area as he noticed there were indeed a few people waiting for further service.

Shockingly for the both of them, the rest of the day went smoothly. None of the chefs made any mistakes; each of them was too afraid to ruin the good mood Rody placed on the chef. As for the customers, most of them had a few complaints, but nothing truly upsetting.

Vincent remained in his corner for the majority of the day before returning to his office to think of what to make for Rody. Once the chefs assured he wasn’t coming back out, the youngest spoke out.

“Soo… We all agree that something is going on between Chef and Rody, right?

Rody had been working hard since the incident, ensuring that he was busy and wasn’t thinking on the whole encounter too much.

Things had just started to slow down for the evening and he was finishing the last few orders.

“I can ask the chefs if they pre-cook the pears before the baking process? I’m not too sure myself apologies for that-”

The customer smiled and thanked him as he scurried off to find the information.

“Hey guys a-“

Rody paused at the small window, noticing that all of the cooks were speaking in hushed voices and seemed to be discussing something secret.

He went silent as he heard them whisper his name.

One of the older chefs grumbled to himself as the conversation continued.

“You guys are overanalyzing things. They’re both men.”

The chef beside him shook his head in response. He was one for gossip, especially regarding their boss.

“Well, this just proves our theory that maybe the chef’s type. We’ve all seen how he dresses outside of work. Plus, remember that one event we had to cater for. That really hot broad was hitting on him, and he was annoyed at it! If that were me, I would be flattered at least!”

The older chef scoffed in response, while others nodded in agreement.

“You’re going to get fired one of these days.”

Rody froze, his mind a frenzied blur of thoughts as he connected their words.

Vincent… Was into men?

There was absolutely no way. Just because the guy is antisocial doesn’t necessarily make him… That.

He doesn’t like people full stop. So it was probably just that not a lot of women were into his kind of personality…

And why one earth had they been talking about him before Vincent?

The younger chef shrugged his shoulders. Clearly not heading the other’s warning to drop it.

“If I was going to get fired, I already would have been. But come on, you have to at least see the way he looks at Rody! It’s not normal! I swear I’ve seen him smile at him.”

The other chef rolled his eyes as he continued his focus on the dish in front of him.

“They could just be friends.”

This time another chef interjected,

“But chef doesn’t do friends!”

Rody stood almost paralysed in place. He couldn’t think of a single logical thing to say or do, that would make him un-hear what had just been said.

“That’s not…”

He mumbled to himself, quiet as he jerked away and leaned against the wall. His face was probably bright red, embarrassed and uncomfortable.

They’re both male. That kind of thinking is wrong. Not to mention there was no conceivable chance Vincent liked him like that at all.

He could still hear the chefs talking, but the sound of his own heart hammering away in his chest was louder…

Rody just felt slightly queasy with the whole idea.

Just as another Chef was about to add his own personal theory, the door to the office opened. Each chef diverted their eyes, a silence filling the kitchen. The warm playful environment evaporated in a mere moment. Yet Vincent remained oblivious of the sudden shift.

Rather than taking his usual place in the corner, he moved to an unused cooking space.

The chefs couldn’t help but glance at him as he began collecting ingredients.

Rody could no longer see the kitchen, and decided he needed to be as far away from it as possible at the moment.

So, he stuck the next required order on the wall without a word, and ran off to check on some of the tables.

Which sounded much better than listening to the kitchen gossip about his non existent scandalous romance.

Seriously, gender aside, he and Vincent were completely incompatible. Not to mention the guy looked tired and unapproachable…

He looked bad. Definitely, bad.

Unfortunately for Rody, the customers began to notice his distress. A kind elderly woman looked up at the man as he shakily placed her dish on the table.

“Excuse me young man, are you alright?”

Her voice carried no judgement.

Rody froze up like a deer in headlights, his body going rigid as he paused at the woman’s table.

“Ah apologies ma’am, I am just a little distracted at the moment…”

He muttered out a half truth, hoping this wasn’t going to turn into him needing to go get Vince.

He didn’t think he could look the other man in the eyes right now.

“I promise your dish should be perfectly prepared though, if that’s what you’re concerned about?”

Rody wasn’t exactly used to the customers talking to him about anything other than the food.

The old lady chuckled slightly before softly placing her hand on top of his.

“That isn’t my concern but thank you dearie. Forgive me but you remind me of my grandson so I couldn’t help but worry.”

Rody couldn’t help but smile sappily at the sentiment. He wasn’t too close with his own grandmother, so this was a kind of interaction he hadn’t had the pleasure of experiencing before.

“Oh there’s no need to worry I’m okay! Just shocked I suppose- It’s been a long day…”

He grinned sheepishly, easing up thanks to the woman’s kind words.

As Rody glanced up, he noticed that she was one of two people left in the dining room right now. That thankfully meant his shift would be over soon, and that he was one step closer to leaving this place.

That also meant it was time for him to take out the trash.

“If you need anything do give me a shout, I just have some closing chores to get done before we stop the kitchen. You enjoy your food!”

He smiled before turning towards the kitchen, bracing himself to see everyone.

As Rody entered, most of the chefs offered him a wave before returning back to finishing up the final meals.

Vincent, however, didn’t notice as he continued cooking.

It wasn’t hard to assume whom he was cooking for.

Rodys eyes scanned the room, his body tensing when he noticed Vince.

The man was definitely cooking something for him again, only this time that idea felt much more awkward-

Rody typically would’ve gone over to talk to him, ask about the food, etc…

But this time he quickly grabbed the trash bag out of the bin, and ducked out the back door without so much as a single word.

He couldn’t keep talking to Vince in-front of the cooks, and needed to start toning down the friendliness. That could start with him nipping the food making in the bud.

Vincent perked up as he heard the back door close. He glanced over at it, confused about what happened. He glared at it suspiciously before assuming it had been one of the chefs.

He slowly tore his eyes away from the door, focusing back on the pan of shrimp. He decided to cook a full entrée instead of a dessert. Squid ink pasta with fried shrimp. It was the least he could do knowing the other wasn’t going to eat when he got home.

Plus, he had missed cooking for someone else.

It was refreshing.

However, the peering eyes were an annoyance. They were acting as if it was the first time they’d seen him actually cook.

Rody had quickly disposed of the trash, careful not to injure his expertly wrapped finger as he did so.

“And… Done! That’s that out of the way.”

He sighed and leaned against the dumpster, staring up into the foggy evening sky and watching as his cold breath rose upwards. He didn’t want to go back in just yet, knowing that Vincent would definitely notice him.

A part of him wondered if he might get away with not saying anything to the other at all?…

But that was not likely, as he had to notify his boss before ending his shift.

“It’s only four more days… I’m leaving after that anyway.”

It was then that Rody remembered, he hadn’t ever actually mentioned that vital fact to Vincent. The other would most likely be pleased about it considering his performance thus far anyway, so it shouldn’t be too big a problem.

The chef in question quickly wrapped up the meal, safely putting it away in a container. He felt a tinge of excitement to see the other’s reaction to this dish. It was likely something he’s never tried before. After all, it was likely way out of his budget.

Vincent glanced around looking for Rody, only to be met with him completely out of sight. He didn’t think much of it, assuming he was most likely in the restroom or something.

He returned to his corner to supervise the chefs as they closed.

With a heavy sigh, Rody braced himself before turning back to the kitchens door.

There was no use in prolonging an inevitable confrontation.

He quietly pushed open the door, moving towards the dining area without a single look towards the chefs, or where he had seen Vincent earlier.

There was a slight chance the other man may have gone back into his office by now anyway.

Vincent's eyes carefully follow Rody as he instantly left the kitchen. His body language wasn't like his usual perky self.

Something was off.

However, that wasn't his concern. It shouldn't be his concern. It's none of his business if something is bothering his waiter. It's likely something extremely stupid that would be a waste of his time. Besides, he's doing his job. That's all he needs to do.

He decided not to follow after him.

Rody breathed a sigh of relief when he finally reached the dining room, safe from the prying eyes of others.

He noticed quickly that the woman from earlier had departed, leaving a wad of sufficient cash and then some on her table.

An extremely generous tip it would seem.

“Well thank fuck, there is a god.”

Rody mumbled, counting up the pay for his meal and carrying it over to the register. It clicked shut and locked as he set the closing code.

Then, after clearing the last table scraps onto a single plate, it was time to go throw them out….

And end his shift by talking to Vincent.

Vincent patiently waited in his usual corner. His arms were crossed as he impatiently tapped against his arm. He shouldn't be curious. He already knew Rody was going to walk up to him like he usually does and complain about what's eating away at him.

He was being irrational. He couldn't allow himself to be irrational.

Rody took his sweet time disposing of the food scraps, handing the empty plate to one of the cooks currently washing up with a smile.

Then, he finally turned to Vincent, a strained smile on his face as he met the man's darkened eyes.

“Hey chef, I’m finished with everything now so I’m going to get going if you don’t need anything else done?”

He tried his best to sound professional and not too enthused.

Vincent suspiciously narrowed his eyes at Rody before gesturing to the take away box sitting on the counter.

“No, that will be all. Just don’t forget your meal.”

Rody nervously side eyed the box, eyes flicking to the cooks that weren’t even watching them at the moment.

“I uh, I think I’m actually going to try to make something myself tonight… My girlfriend is always telling me I should eat healthier.”

He nervously laughed, stepping back from Vincent in anticipation of the man’s reaction.

Seeing as he most likely already put the man in a bad mood, no time like the present to drop his impending job loss too.

“I know I’m only going to be here a week, but I should take better care of myself…”

The entire kitchen froze. All of the chef’s eyes slowly turned towards the two of them. Their faces were a mixture of rage and fear.

As for the chef.

His face remained expressionless. Yet his eyes peered into Rody’s.

He wanted to grab one of the chef’s knifes and slit his throat. Soaking his shoes with his disgusting blood. Slam his corpse onto the table as he would begin to gut open his insides, forcing all of the chef’s to watch as he removed his organs. Crushing each of them in the palm of his hand before dropping it in disgusting plops on the floor.

Yet he made no move to do so. Instead he smiled. His usual creepy forced smile. His voice was void of any emotion as he spoke,

“I understand. Have a good night Rody.”

Rody was no idiot contrary to common knowledge, he instantly felt the shift in attitude, discomforted beyond belief at Vincent’s reaction to his words.

He had a feeling the information was not getting processed very well.

“Yeah you too… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He muttered, nervous eyes sweeping the kitchen as he left.

His skin crawled with an indescribable feeling from the way Vincent had looked at him, smiled at him.

He felt this was a point he couldn’t go back from.

Vincent waited til Rody left before he finally moved from his spot. He carefully grabbed the food he made before dropping it onto the floor, crushing the box under the heel of his shoe. Black pasta spread along the floor as the shrimp began to seep out of the box.

His eyes glared in disgust at the mess in front of him, hoping it would lessen his mood.

Yet it didn’t.

He wordlessly scraped the remains against the floor before walking out of the restaurant.

The chefs could finish closing without him.

.....

Hours had passed since the restaurant closed, yet the chef remained awake. At first he attempted to lie down, staring at the ceiling as he replayed what Rody had said to him over and over. He had given him a chance. One that he threw away without a second thought.

It was the greatest insult he had ever experienced.

His body refused to relax as his eye bags began to darken. His clock ticked with each passing second, driving him further into his rage. Out of pure frustration, he rose from his bed, getting dressed to return to the restaurant. If he couldn't sleep, he might as well be productive. Butchering meat always helped him relax. It allowed him to vent his violent frustrations without any repercussions.

With the soft jingle of his keys, he opened the door, making his way to the freezer. The cold air hugged his skin as his muscles began to loosen. With precision, he carefully picked up the large slab of hanging meat, draping it across the cutting board.

Loud thuds filled the small room as he began hacking away.

With each slice, he imagined it was Rody on the table instead. A small smile grew on his face at the thought. Blood soaked his apron as his hacking sped up. It lost its precision. It was no longer calculated.

It was savage.

.....

The entire way home, Rody couldn’t get the unsettling thoughts of Vincent out of his head. Though the chef had claimed he was fine, Rody was starting to question just how truthful he was being.

The guy had just seemed so unwell…

When Rody did reach home, the day's events had somewhat faded and he was once again focused on his daily attempt at reaching Manon.

She still had yet to pick up, and at this point he was getting rather desperate. What if something really had happened? There was no way she was ignoring him this much on purpose… Right?

With a heavy sigh, he trailed over to the old couch sat in the middle of his apartment, eyes trained on the small phone. It was insane to keep calling her, ludicrous even…

And yet he once again began dialling in her number, following pure muscle memory as he waited with bated breath.

“…”

The line crackled a few generic words before cutting off, sealing Rodys terrible mood as he hung his head.

“Fuck…”

He breathed out, mentally and physically too exhausted to even try again. There was no point when he knew the answer he would receive.

She wasn’t going to pick up, and this date was the only thing that could win her back… That’s what he hoped at-least.

Rody fell back against the couch cushions as his head swarmed with the countless negative outcomes to his fucked up life.

Not to mention, he was absolutely dreading work tomorrow…